Count your miracles––
evening news floodlights
too much winter
dogs on the moon
their owners lacking
The stoop is a pulpit
Faint beyond halogen
you almost miss
hellos in crossing
old habits are vermin
they gag us always
in regrets here have
you know unlocks
goes to bed
for night –– do they say that
the end is a-comin’
soon or do they say
forget the sun worship
Devastating radiance is intertwined
in opposition. Late maternal calls decipher
Spanish radio prophets bewitched ministers
in an age of confusion. Pinholes render
voices of God speechless. Prayers for you.
Animals in your house well-fed always holding
your ease still weeping for more. Are we
too busy to love now, remember amaranthine
street corners we swerved having thought
we cracked something, an excess of shadow
as key yet having stolen ourselves blind
we did not recognize ourselves in its blurring.
We had been looking into water fog and sun.
I missed the ground. Speak for me.
(Text in italics come from a song by Vic Chesnutt, "Warm.")
Maryam Ivette Parhizkar is a writer, musician, scholar and author of two chapbooks: Pull: a ballad (The Operating System, 2014) and As For the Future (Portable Press at Yo-Yo Labs, 2016). Her recent writing can be found in Amerarcana/Shuffle Boil, The Recluse, Gesture, Brooklyn Rail, and other places. She is part of the editorial collective of Litmus Press and a PhD student at Yale University, researching migration, aesthetics, time-traveling artists and liberatory politics.